


What it Means to be a Fish

by MakaylaJade



Series: For The Gods: The Bria Monique Series [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Acceptance, Bisexual Derek Morgan, Cute little story, Drag Queens, Fluff, Freeform, Friendship, Gay Spencer Reid, Gen, Gender Identity, M/M, No Editing Here, Self Confidence, fuck gender roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26985853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakaylaJade/pseuds/MakaylaJade
Summary: Spencer Reid wasn’t known for being the most social creature alive. He struggled with most social situations and was quite awkward in his every day life, and if he told his night time companions that he worked for the FBI, they would most likely laugh at him or simply dismiss him outright. But it was true. An FBI agent by day, a drag queen by night — who would have ever thought?
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Series: For The Gods: The Bria Monique Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969837
Comments: 10
Kudos: 142





	What it Means to be a Fish

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is just a quick little piece of writing that I decided to do for the hell of it. I did this instead of sleeping :D 
> 
> I hope you guys find this cute and fun!

Spencer Reid wasn’t known for being the most social creature alive. He struggled with most social situations and was quite awkward in his every day life, and if he told his night time companions that he worked for the FBI, they would most likely laugh at him or simply dismiss him outright. But it was true. An FBI agent by day, a drag queen by night — who would have ever thought? Certainly not him. He had experimented once with makeup when he was still a boy, but from there, it had simply evolved into an outright fascination, that he was incredibly good at too. Even Garcia would be jealous if she knew how well he could rock a cat eye. 

Any drag queen would know that Spencer was experienced with the way he owned the stage and held himself with a pride that was absent in his daily life. He wasn’t nearly as confident at the bureau as he was in gay nightclubs, strutting around like a peacock with his feathers on display for all to see. He was good at it though, and it had been a hobby of his ever since he was able to get into nightclubs legally. Who would have thought that the awkward genius kid completing his third PhD at the age of eighteen would be a drag queen? Absolutely nobody, and that was why Spencer didn’t put extra effort into hiding the fact; because he was almost certain nobody would ever find out.

In the drag community, there were different types of queens. Eleven, to be exact; faux, androgyny, fish, club, goth, pageant, camp, transdrag, fluid, tranimal, and activessle. Spencer fit into one of those categories perfectly, and he always had: fish.

A fish drag queen was the type of queen who summoned every bit of femininity in their body and accentuated those features. They were determined to be the authentic woman, to the point where people wouldn’t think twice about her gender because to them, she was a real woman. Fish were polished, clean, and certainly weren’t shy with their makeup.

Now to be clear, Spencer was not gender dysphoric. He was comfortable with his masculinity as a gay man, but breaking the gender lines was always something that excited him. Dressing up in skirts and dresses and slipping a pair of heels on was empowering, and in Spencer’s opinion, any open minded person could feel like they ruled the world if they just slipped some stilettos on.

With the ever expanding appearance of drag queens in popular culture and media, Spencer wasn’t hesitant to join them. His colleagues wouldn’t ever suspect this from him, so there was no reason for them to go snooping. Garcia would never possibly consider this as a possibility, so why should he even bother to hide it? It would only prove to stress him out if he focused on the ‘what ifs.’

  
So he created a social media account. Just an Instagram at first, nothing too flashy, although as the follower count rose and rose, he began to feel like maybe he was just asking to be discovered. But apparently that wasn’t enough of a warning for him, because he went on to create a YouTube account on which he did makeup tutorials, for beginners and for the most experienced queens. It was a nice way to get rid of some stress, and after all, he liked to feel pretty: Who didn’t?

If his team had ever suspected anything, they would have found out by now.

But Spencer wasn’t really helping his case.

The first time he slipped, it had been a long night, and despite his initial plans to head home immediately after his show, he ended up staying with the girls a little longer than he expected, and hadn’t made it home until nearly three that morning. He was usually thorough when getting rid of the evidence, specifically with removing his makeup, making sure his hair wasn’t sticky from the wig-cap glue or tape, and taking off fake nails or nail polish. But he had failed that morning, and had completely forgotten about the bright pink polish on his fingers because of his sleep deprivation. What a shame. This wasn’t missed either. Because as soon as he was in Morgan’s line of sight in the break room, the older man looked somewhat shocked and began his torment.

“Well, well, well, Pretty Boy. You let your girlfriend do your nails last night?” He teased, innocent enough. Reid was confused at first, doing a quick, mental self-assessment before his eyes widened, his face glowed red, and an expression of absolute mortification took over. Instead of responding and embarrassing himself any further, he simply stuffed his hands in his pockets and treaded to his desk with faster steps, ignoring the sounds of laughter behind him and completely neglecting himself of coffee. Damn. So much for secrecy.

“What is it, Reid?” Prentiss questioned upon seeing him, a sharply tuned brow raised slightly. Spencer’s could look better though. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he stammered, internally cursing himself for his unbearable nerves. Emily looked humored but didn’t push it, thank god, and dropped it, not bringing it up again. Spencer kept his hands out of sight for the rest of the day.

The second time was completely Spencer’s fault. It had been a normal day, he had a show coming up that Friday, unless of course they were called on a case, and nothing was out of the ordinary. In short, it was a paperwork day and Reid was completely fine with that, simply because he usually finished early and the last hours of work were reserved for preparing for his upcoming performance. So, when his teammates thought he was simply staring off into space with some complicated equation taking over his existence, he was in truth thinking of outfits for the drag show.

He didn’t get to attend that show unfortunately, because a case came in right as he was packing up. He wallowed all the way to the roundtable room.

But when Penelope came into the room, it was over. A tight, somewhat outdated polka dotted dress fitted her curvy form and four inch pink heels that didn’t at all match the pink fabric of the dress nearly threw Spencer into a conniption fit. He was used to her bright and eccentric outfits, but this… How could she forsake the name of fashion so rudely? He nearly gasped at the sight, but he didn’t let it happen until his eyes had finished scanning over her body and rose to her face. What… What in gay hell?

Her eyeshadow was turquoise in color, the wings were sharp, and the contour… Oh god. Spencer was feeling nauseous already. It wasn’t blended. It _wasn’t_ blended. It wasn’t _blended._ It was just straight blocks of color on her cheeks. He tried to hide the horrified expression on his face, but she saw right through him immediately since when Reid showed emotions, it was usually a big deal.

“Alright my furry friends, we have a—Why are you looking at me like that?” She said, stopping herself mid sentence and looking at Reid accusingly, the rest of the team instantly looking to him, clearly having missed the situation because nobody seemed as outraged as he was about the makeup disaster. He tried to look innocent, shaking his head quickly.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare,” he said dismissively, but Garcia didn’t buy it. Profiling wasn’t in her job description, but she knew when someone was lying to her, _especially_ Reid. But JJ beat her to it, tilting her head slightly and smiling in his direction.

“What’s wrong, Spence?” She asked. She was too sweet for her own good, her pretty blonde waves tumbling over her shoulders so naturally. Funny how his wigs looked just as pretty.

“Oh it’s… Something on your cheek, that’s all,” he said, Garcia looking horrified immediately and whipping out a pocket mirror, seemingly from thin air, and overlooking her plump face in confusion when she didn’t seem to notice the problem.

“What is it, what is it? Get it off,” she said frantically, approaching the young doctor with a tatter of heels and leaning down towards him. Reid did a quick glance in JJ’s direction who regarded him with a shrug, and Morgan seemed interested now. Spencer hesitantly rose his hand, a slender finger working the edges of her contour on either cheek until it was smooth and not just a straight line. JJ giggled beside him, quietly, and Prentiss looked incredulous at his actions, but when he deemed her fit, Spencer couldn’t resist the little pat he gave to her cheek. Penelope looked both pleased and surprised, thanking him before standing and returning to the front of the room where she reported the case as if nothing had happened. But the little sparkle in her eye made it clear he wasn’t going to be let off for this incident.

That had been four months ago now, and Spencer hadn’t let up at all in his pastime activities and instead began to embrace it even more. He had come out as gay a couple of weeks ago to JJ who was both excited for him and eager to help him get into the dating scene, but little did she know, he was somewhat infamous in the D.C. gay community. He had a following on nearly every social media platform, and whenever he looked at himself, he felt so happy to realize that that beautiful person was actually him. He had so many issues with his self esteem when he was younger, ranging from his physical appearance to his awkward sociality, but when he stepped into the shoes of his drag persona, he was no longer Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He didn’t have to try, because something about wearing a leotard and high heels was freeing.

He had a show that Saturday night; nothing unusual about it, pretty routine and just what he expected. But the moment he saw his female colleagues walk into the club with a hesitant Morgan following suit, he was doomed. He had been on stage when it happened, strutting down the mini catwalk effortlessly yet suddenly feeling very exposed. He never hesitated, but the slight stumble in his step wasn’t missed, and as soon as his and Morgan’s eyes met, he knew the man had to have seen right through him. The eye connection was long and somewhat awkward, and soon, Spencer realized he was looking at a very confused man.

Spencer turned without incident though, leaving the stage the same way he entered it: confident. He couldn’t let them know, and if he had to go all night convincing them he wasn’t Spencer Reid, he would. He didn’t interact with them when he wasn’t on stage, and it was almost like he was daring them to identify him. His second time on, in a completely different outfit which consisted of a tight, mini dress and heels as high as the sky, he winked at Derek, and the handsome grin he received in response was enough for him to smile back, innocently enough.

At the end of the night, the other queens huddled around him and chattered about the handsome man who kept looking at him. He made a comment about getting the man in his pants, and they giggled away as if nothing strange had even happened. Hopefully nothing had, and tomorrow would be a completely normal work day.

But that was not the case. Not at all.

As soon as he stepped off of the elevator, something felt off, but before he could even make it into the bullpen, two hands landed on either of his arms, and he was whisked away into Penelope Garcia’s office by JJ and Prentiss. The resident of the office was there, but so was Derek, and he instantly felt uncomfortable.

“You have some explaining to do, Pretty Boy,” Morgan said first, arms crossing over his broad chest and suddenly Spencer felt naked. He mimicked the other man, a frown taking residence over his full lips as he looked back, overcoming his initial fear of intimidation.

“About?…” he asked, seemingly confused, but internally, he was panicking. Oh god, they knew, they knew, they knew, they _knew_.

“Well,” Garcia butted in, typing rapid-fire on her keyboard before an image of him popped up on her monitor, “Maybe we can start with this.”

It wasn’t a normal image. Sweet Jesus, he wished it was. He would prefer any high school picture over this. Instead, it was his most recent Instagram post: a selfie of him in drag. It was from last night, in fact. A bubblegum pink wig looking as natural as real hair falling straight over his shoulders, framing his done up face prettily. His makeup was perfect, a pink rosy blush dusted over his high cheekbones, glitter in all the right places. His eyes were winged, falsies set in place, faux brows arched high. But his lips were the attention grabber. A full burgundy pout, a touch of highlight bringing out a glossy accent. Dark eyes looked ahead with no hesitation; _bedroom eyes_. Fucking Christ.

“Who’s that?” He questioned immediately, having prepared himself for a moment like this in his moments of paranoid. He doubted himself in his panicky moments, assuring himself that nothing was going to happen, but here he was, living out his worst nightmare. He would quite literally prefer to be stabbed by an unsub than be stabbed with those accusatory looks.

“Reid…” Prentiss started, her hand coming to his shoulder. He looked down at her, trying to keep up the confused act, but the knowing look in her eyes he received was what made him realize he couldn’t hide it anymore. He had been completely and utterly busted.

“That’s you, man,” Derek said, a smile curling his lips upwards, although it was awkward and somewhat confused. Spencer had a tendency of making people question their sexuality when he was in drag.

“You’re so pretty, Spence,” JJ was quick to add in, a smile brightening her face. Spencer practically melted, his brows curving inwards and a hesitant smile curling his own lips upwards.

“You think so?” He said in response, nearly a whisper, as if he didn’t already know the power he possessed with makeup and a wig on. JJ rubbed his bicep reassuringly.

“Bria Monique, huh?” Garcia said his drag name aloud, beaming up at him from where she sat, beginning to scroll through more of his pictures, gasping quietly at one that was somewhat… suggestive. Not for a drag queen, but especially for Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Whoa, kiddo! I didn’t know you had it in you!” She applauded. It was a picture of him, a pair of high black stilettos on his feet yet he was crouched down, the supple curve of his bottom quite apparent from the tight black jumpsuit. His head was tilted back, exposing his bare neck and upper chest while those eyes looked directly towards the camera; _bedroom eyes_ again _._ It had been a recent photoshoot he did, just for the fun of it. But he wasn’t having fun as of right now.

“I-I…” he started, stumbling over his words and debating on whether he should run or own up to it. He was left with one option; stay. But his friends didn’t look any less impressed with him than they were before. In fact, they looked somewhat proud, but the way Morgan looked at him within those few minutes was definitely enough for him to notice. He didn’t say anything though.

“You have _got_ to show me how to do my eyeshadow like that,” Garcia piped up again, now on his YouTube channel, watching one of his quick makeup tutorial for advanced artists, specifically on a sunset eye. He nodded hesitantly, and the smile he flashed towards her was enough for her to giggle excitedly.

“A-Alright…” he said softly, Emily and JJ also adding in their own questions of makeup techniques and styles.

They let him go eventually, not without requesting invitations to his next show of course. Morgan was quick to catch up to him when he left Garcia’s den though, a large hand splaying over the small of his back as they headed towards the bullpen. Reid came to a gradual stop in the middle of the hallway though, and a shiver ran pleasantly down his spine as Morgan leaned in and whispered flirtatiously.

“I can’t wait to see you perform again.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and he looked towards Derek with both confusion and subtle excitement on his features. All he got in return though was a quick wink and a gentle pat against his ass. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.


End file.
